“The token plunker bangs against the locked turnstile and walks away in frustration. Then from the shadows, the token sucker appears like a vampire, quickly sealing his lips over the token slot, inhaling powerfully and producing his prize: a $1.50 token, hard earned and obviously badly needed.”

Some token suckers amassed more than $50 in tokens a day, wrote Kennedy. “Token booth clerks were known to sprinkle chili powder into the token slots most often jammed.”

“Some officers resorted to spraying a small amount of Mace around the regular slots and keeping an eye out for the usual suspects. The ones with bright red lips were then arrested.”

The advent of the Metrocard meant the end of the token era (RIP 1953-2003). And with the demise of tokens went the stomach-turning sight of someone putting their lips on a turnstile.

Ugh. It’s not just the criminal who put his mouth on the coin slot who was put at risk by this habit, but everyone else who used that turnstile whose fingers came in contact with it. Living as we do in the Purell Era, with a greater understanding of transmitting communicable disease via our hands, we can recognize this crime must have contributed to the spread of much illness in the city. I’m very glad it’s done with!